Survival
by twounderscorethreefour
Summary: When Zuko's thrown into the cooler, Sokka trips in and joins him. With warmth as a scarcity and comfort preferable to numbness, Sokka draws in closer and assures himself it's only for survival. Slash.


Alternate universe. What I wish had happened instead of what actually did.

Warning: This installment is _slash_, and borderline smut. Don't like? Go away.

**Kink**

"Hey! Watch who you're shoving!"

"I think you mean _whom_ I'm shoving!"

Sokka watched as Zuko and Chit Sang grabbed each other's hands and began to struggle. It wasn't long before a throng of cheering prisoners developed, always eager to see some excitement. Zuko and Chit Sang pushed against each other, absorbed in the mock fight, then Zuko broke off and threw a punch at Chit Sang. Chit Sang blocked it easily, grabbing Zuko's fist and throwing the pale firebender to the ground.

Sokka took that as his cue and entered the scene. "I need backup over here!"

With the convicts still cheering, Chit Sang threw himself at Zuko in an attempted bodyslam. Zuko, although certainly not bulky, was agile, and somersaulted out of the way. He landed safely in an act of impressive acrobatic grace, and retaliated with a blast of fire from his fists. Chit Sang jumped to avoid getting his feet scorched (sound familiar?) and another guard arrived instantly afterward.

"No firebending," he reprimanded authoritatively, and pointed a finger at Zuko. "Into the cooler."

Two more guards immediately rushed in to contain Zuko to the floor. Maintaining a steady grip, they brought him up and lead him away to his punishment. Sokka's eyes met Suki's, almost longingly, before they parted as well.

Sokka snaked through the hallways and into the cooler corridor, and spotted Zuko about halfway there, his wrists held behind his back by an unwieldy guard, a second one walking parallel to supervise. Sokka quickened his pace, uniform boots clacking loudly on the pueblo flooring.

Sokka placed his hand on Zuko's forearm, just above the other guard's grip. "I'll take it from here," he assured, tugging a little on Zuko's limb so that the other guard would unclench his hand. The guard obliged, predictably, and without question. The staff at the prison weren't often skeptical of each other, Sokka learned, and that when he was questioned he could simply feign orders from the warden.

Sokka exhaled slowly, as if he were deflating; a sure indicator of relief. When the other guards' footsteps had diminished completely, he placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder and lifted his visor, eyes shifting before he spoke.

"We've got about an hour before I can get Chit Sang and Suki out of their cells," he informed. "You think you can hold up until then?"

"It shouldn't be too bad. Most prisoners are in there for three times that long, at least. Besides," he added, patting the wrench in his pocket, "I'll be keeping myself busy."

They neared the hall where most of the coolers were set, and a cloud of visibly freezing air drifted from the cooler's door when Sokka opened it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sokka saw Zuko wince. Subconsciously, it gave him a sort of satisfied feeling. _Because it looks like firebenders aren't so tough after all._

Lowering his voice in a pathetic attempt to disguise it, Sokka said, "Hopefully this'll help you learn your lesson!" His words were exaggerated and loud, likely for show as to not arise any suspicion within the other guards.

Zuko rolled his eyes at the tribesman's characteristically terrible acting, but his arrogance manifestly depleted when he hesitated in stepping inside the cooler. Of course he would have preferred it if his anxiety would have gone unnoticed, but not everyone has the luxury of maintaining a consistently fearless reputation.

"I can probably get your after thirty minutes," Sokka said, almost reassuringly, and shivered when he felt the frosty air caress his bare arms. "If I can get to Suki and Chit Sang before their break is over—"

"Someone's coming!"

Quickly but distressfully, Zuko stepped into the wintry tank and slid the door shut. Well, would have slid the door shut. In a panic, Sokka had shifted back and forth in confusion as to which direction he should head. He stumbled and part of his garb, loose around his skinny hips, had gotten caught and he fell back against the half open door with a echoing clang. Sokka scrambled inside, figuring it was too late to improvise and better to hide out until the other guards had passed.

It was cramped inside the cooler, uncomfortably so, and the temperature was definitely below zero. Sokka instinctively leaned into the contrasting warmth of Zuko's body.

"Yeah, new arrivals coming in at dawn," a male guard spoke, his voice clear through the relatively thin but strong metal of the cooler. Sokka slid the door open slowly, a sliver of light illuminating the small chilly space.

"Anybody interesting?" asked a female guard.

"Nah, just the usual," the male guard said. "Some robbers, couple of traitors, some war prisoners. Though I did hear there might be a pirate."

"No foolin'."

"War prisoners," Zuko whispered, sounding almost concerned. "It could be your father."

Conflicted, Sokka said, "I know."

He felt a plethora of emotions welling up inside him, swirling around in his conscience and in his chest. Mentally, he was clouded with divergence and he was physically constricted in a freezing metal tube. All in all, not a pleasant experience. Mistakenly, he shifted, and the door latched shut.

Zuko didn't say anything, and Sokka was unable to make out his expression in the unnerving darkness of the cooler.

Sokka was contemplating leaning further into Zuko's near-sweltering form (well, at least it felt hot compared to the bitter metal wall) and furiously shaking and pounding on the door. Naturally strategic, Sokka was aware that the latter would easily get him into trouble and possibly reveal his identity, thwart all of their plans and even put Suki in danger. No, he couldn't have that.

She'd been through enough already. It pained Sokka to even imagine it; his girlfriend alone in a dark cell, sitting idly for days on end without any means of positive communication. Uncomfortable and lonely. But it hurt Sokka most to know he was the cause, and that she'd been waiting for him for so long. That he hadn't been fast enough, and that he hadn't known something was amiss in Ba Sing Se.

And that, regardless, she'd still been happy to see him; eager to forgive.

Her eyes brimmed with tears at the realization of his presence and she launched into the tightest, most sincere hug that Sokka had ever received. She was soft and warm, and happy little tingles traveled from his spine and into his limbs and into his _brain_, and it felt like she would never let go. Sokka didn't want her to let go. Her slender figure fit perfectly into his own, and her hair smelled like dust and fabric. And if they could have just stayed there, breathing synchronically, for eternity – well, Sokka would have been content.

Finally, Zuko spoke, and Sokka's world of reminiscence was shattered.

"Well, what should we do? Are we going to go ahead with the plan or are we waiting another night?"

"I don't know," Sokka said solemnly. "Is it right for me to risk Suki's freedom – all our freedom – on the slim chance that my dad is gonna show up?"

"It's your call, Sokka."

Thinking about Suki and about endangering her freedom again wasn't an option, Sokka realized. Too painful. Instead, he focused on… on, well, anything else, and they sat in silence for an immeasurable number of minutes.

"…We're locked in," Zuko finally said.

"I know,"

Spirits, this was more awkward than the balloon ride.

Sokka heard – and felt – Zuko take a shaky breath. He said, "When the guard shows up to let me out and sees you in here too, it isn't going to look good." Zuko spoke slowly, and Sokka could tell it was to prevent his voice from wavering as his body convulsed with intense shivers.

"Right," Sokka agreed, prompting Zuko to continue.

"S-so… wh…en…" Zuko paused, his speech quickly becoming staccato. He inhaled again, steadily, before persisting. "…When the guard opens the d-door," another inhale, "you act like I pulled you in. Cap… captured you. To… overthrow you."

"It won't work," Sokka said with disdain. "Unless the warden gets involved with the arrest, the guard to put you in the cooler is the one to let you out."

Sokka felt his fingers progressively become numb and swollen; stiff. He was unable to move his toes entirely. His guard uniform left his arms bare, and the crimson fabric covering his torso was thin and breathable to compensate for the sweltering weather outside. Zuko's prison outfit wasn't much better, he was sure, and the material was flimsy and moderately scratchy.

Although it had looked _very_ good on Suki, with the way she had that belt tied around her waist –

And… wow, they shouldn't have made the guards' shorts so tight.

Sokka knew he had to distract himself quickly in order to quell the constriction. Impulsively, he said, "It's cold."

"No kidding," came Zuko's short reply.

Sokka could tell that the other teen didn't feel like talking, and suspected that Zuko was too proud to visibly display his discomfort. Sokka felt a shiver travel down his spine and escape through his limbs, involuntarily.

"C-couldn't you use your b-breath of f-fire…?" Sokka asked.

"N… n…ot without burning yo-ou," Zuko answered shakily, his tone irritated under the disjointed articulation.

Another tremor rattled Sokka's frame, but it was smothered when Zuko wrapped his arm around him, just below his shoulders. A balmy sensation engulfed Sokka, and he leaned in further. His toes were still anesthetized and he was pretty sure his fingers and lips were blue, but it was a start.

Besides, there was still _one_ part of him that wasn't frozen…

No! Stop that!

"…Better?" Zuko inquired. Sokka could feel Zuko's breath as he spoke, the cooler chilling it partially before it could make contact with Sokka's skin. Zuko smelled just like Suki did when they were reunited just a day before, like dust and fabric. Unknowingly, Sokka had began to muse. And with this musing came something potentially dangerous, although he hadn't realized it yet – relating his girlfriend to the person whose arm was radiating heat and holding him close.

Sokka hastily turned his head and collided his lips with Zuko's. His own lips were dry and cold as they scraped against the firebender's, and Sokka couldn't even tell what state Zuko's were in at first. But as his own mouth warmed up – from the friction or from something else – Sokka's brain did, too, and he realized he wasn't kissing Suki.

And he stopped caring when another convulsion worked its way through him, settling in his stomach this time, which left him feeling a little uncomfortable but pleasantly tense. Still, though. All rationality wasn't lost, and Sokka pulled away.

"My lips were cold," he excused lamely. Zuko didn't say anything, and Sokka couldn't tell if it was because he was still self-conscious about his wavering speech or shock or something entirely different.

"Your hands are, too." Zuko mumbled, grasping them. He wasn't gentle or soft like Suki, but he held a sort of charming hesitance that reminded Sokka of a young girl on a first date.

The temperature of Zuko's hands elevated, effectively warming up the both of them. Quizzically, Sokka said, "Um…?"

"Firebenders can control their body temperature, to an extent." Zuko explained. His speech wasn't nearly as dithering as it had been before, given the raise of his body temperature and the likely quickening of his pulse. He still sounded nervous and painfully discomfited, but his words weren't nearly as bitten off as they had been before. "Otherwise we'd burn ourselves," he added quickly.

"Why didn't you do that before?" Sokka demanded. He felt Zuko shrug.

Still facing Zuko, Sokka buried his face into the crook of the firebender's neck. As he suspected, it was warm there, too, and he could feel the racing _tutututut_ of his pulse. This wasn't affectionate, Sokka assured himself. It was for survival.

Sure, he was naturally equipped to deal with the cold, having grown up on the underside of the world. But he'd had thick coats and insulating boots back then, not a metal helmet and bare arms, with summer boots that left his knees exposed. Zuko couldn't have been faring much better, in his loose t-shirt, baggy pants, and brown slippers. Zuko wasn't chopstick-thin like Sokka himself, but he was still compact; his ropy muscles really couldn't have been doing _too_ much to keep him warm.

The prisoner's uniform left Zuko's collarbone uncovered, poking out under a thin layer of apple-white skin. It rubbed into Sokka's cheek as he nuzzled deeper, and when he finally raised his head, Zuko grabbed Sokka's mouth with his own.

The kiss was harder this time, hungrier; more passionate. Sokka's lips weren't nearly as numb this time, nor as dry. He grinded himself onto Zuko, closer, instinctively. The kiss broke almost as quickly as another one started up again, their tongues mingling and exploring.

Sokka felt his shorts grow tighter still, his erection throbbing metrically. "Zu-Zuko," he stammered against the other's skin, waves of pleasure racking his body, each muscle tensing blissfully. He gripped Zuko's waist desperately, nails digging in through the fabric, clawing.

Zuko shuddered and responded by unclipping the belt around Sokka's middle, attached to the tribesman at the mouth. Eyes closed, he exhaled vocally, the breath coming out stammered. He fumbled with the fastenings of Sokka's uniform more fluently than expected, nibbling and licking Sokka's lips as he did so. Sokka was overwhelmed with a bout of raw desire his muscles contracted again.

He emitted a low moan and involuntarily thrust himself harder against Zuko, abruptly pushing him against the metal wall with an echoing clang.

And then the door slid open.


End file.
